You transfer the magical qualities (properties, powers, and enhancement bonus) of an enchanted item into another object. You must maintain physical contact with both items for the duration of the ritual. The receiving item must occupy the same magic item slot (head, waist, armor, and so on) and be the same type (wand, rod, weapon, and so on) as the original item. The enchantment to be moved must be valid for the receiving item, so that you cannot transfer ranged
weapon properties to melee weapons, cloth-only armor properties to chainmail, and so on.
You can transfer an enchantment to an item that already contains a lower-level enchantment, but the receiving item’s previous magic is lost. For example, the enhancement bonus and power of a suit of +1 barkskin hide (5th level) could be placed into a suit of +1 curseforged scale (3rd level), but the scale armor’s existing power is lost in doing so. You cannot transfer an enchantment to an item that already has a higherlevel enchantment.

Facing the Reaper

I whirled, my hammer and shield in hand and ran out the door. I felt the unnatural stillness hit me as I came out; it was eerie and unsettling. The others came out after me, and we cast about, looking for the foul beasts coming after these people. As if being downtrodden wasn’t enough, they were cut like cattle. My blood sang with the desire to meet these creatures. A scream to the east motivated us into action, except for Limerick, who scaled one of the buildings for a higher vantage.

We moved as quickly as we were each able, and part of me regretted the weight of my armor. Only a part, mind, as the rest of me knew the protection it afforded. I heard a child scream, and as I closed in, I heard his screams cut off with the unique sound of a blade entering unprotected flesh. Travek arrived first, pointing towards them and warning them of the wrath of Moradin, and was met by one of the beasts attacking him with a greatsword. I hurtled over the canal and bellowed my challenge at the creature before Travek. To the north, I could see a being with a large scythe. The Reaper, undoubtedly, but I saw arrows strike at him and turned my attention to those closer. As I did, Eorik slid around the creature and paid the price. Eorik’s blade slashed at the creature’s arm, and Pelor’s luminous might lashed out at the creature that had ignored my challenge.

It was then I saw more of my compatriots arrive. The warlock, Errol, launched a sickly greenish sphere that spattered one of the creatures in burning acid and the wizard, Naiverra, send forth rays of ice. The two turned their attentions to me, giving Travek the opportunity to unleash a torrent of radiant energy that lashed out at the other creatures, striking them and seeming to knock their remaining minds out of focus. The two armed creatures before me struck, one striking into my breastplate, while I warded off the other with my shield. With a snarl, I struck in the way the clerics back in the temple had shown me, and brought my hammer down, creating an opening for Eorik to strike, and strike he did. His blade sank deep and corrupted gore fell from the gaping wound he left.

Again, the servant of mighty Moradin unleashed his radiant power, and several of the creatures were crushed in the wave. But this drew the attention of two of the other beasts, imperfectly formed mockeries of life, to him. One grabbed him and held him close as a dark aura seemed to leech at the dwarf. The other, I drew to me with a shout of intercession. Unfortunately, I found myself at the disadvantage between the two. While I saw Travek and Eorik battle two of the imperfect beasts, while the mages fired their magics, I set myself. I swung with all the strength I could muster. On the backswing, the spike of my craghammer struck the armed creature in the head, and it crumpled to the ground. My forward swing smashed the head of the imperfect creature before me into a flattened mess that resided halfway in its own torso. I was heartened by this and felt my spirits rise as I turned to aid my compatriots. I saw the wizard’s icy assault and the quick blade of the rogue finish the two, so I turned to find the rest of the force we had come out to meet.

To the west, I saw Limerick trading blows with the Reaper atop one of the buildings. I tightened my jaw and ran. I didn’t know how long he could last against the creature and dared not waste time. I considered reaching for my hand crossbow when I saw the others marshaling towards us and Eorik threw his dagger. When it struck, both he and the Reaper vanished for half a moment and reappeared, each where the other had been. I felt a surge of triumph, which turned to bitter frustration when the creature simply vanished again. I screamed out a challenge for it to come and face the light of Pelor, but mocking silence answered.

Dalrak had been busy this fight, facing off with another of the creatures. It seemed a pitched bout, where the creature would ensnare him, and he would strike with his warhammer and drive it away from him. The fight waged on and on, with the dwarf never giving ground or retreating, but instead following the beast as he drove it back from himself. His valor was well-proven in his actions.

I could see where Naiverra and Errol were lashing out with their magical energies, presumably at more of these enemies. Errol stood atop a build and loosed gouts of flame, followed by sounds of impact and a dull thud, as if a weight had hit the ground. I began to look elsewhere, just in time to see the Reaper appear behind him. He took the strike in the side, but vanished in a lightning-quick teleport. I moved forward towards the building, but the creature hurtled off the building towards Travek. I stepped around the edge of the building, bellowed my challenge and charged the abomination, smashing its shoulder while my hammer shone with the might of Pelor, which seemed to sink deep into the creature. A cloud of cold enveloped the creature, and I faced it, trying to smite it, hitting only its weapon with, but the power of the swing still seemed to harm the creature. I saw the others close in, and after another sickly green orb and a pair of arrows struck, the creature slumped to the ground, defeated.

I knelt, my blood cooling and sweat dripping from my brow. Despite what we had faced, I smiled to myself. The might of Pelor was with me here, and I relished bringing his light to this place.

I walked into the Deepwood to find a celebration in progress. It was absolutely the last thing I would have expected to see, and yet, there it was before me. Few people seemed to notice as I passed by, with arms thrown around each others’ shoulders, hoisting tankards and singing songs. Weapons were piled in spots that almost seemed random, but were just out of the way, leaving me to believe there had been just a touch of organization in post-battle revelry. I continued on, stepping out of the way of dances and circles around the fires, towards the large building at the center of town. The tavern, so I assumed. I believed I had a fifty/fifty chance of finding out what happened there.

Inside, I saw both halves of probability. At one table sat a dwarf with empty tankards all around. He bellowed his laughter and took long pulls from the mug in either hand. At another sat a rather surly looking human, and at a third sat an eladrin woman, the most approachable of the three. I made my introductions and inquired to to celebration in the town. As it turned out, my guess was correct. I had arrived a day late to aid Deepwood in the troubles I had heard about. Apparently, a wave of devils had attacked and been repulsed by this group of adventurers and the townsfolk. Well, there was apparently more to the group: a human that had just departed, another dwarf, and another half-elf like me. As I made small talk, a crack of thunder barely preceded the door swinging open to admit a dragonborn man, resplendent in his robes with a dagger at his belt and an air of capability like these other adventurers.

After introductions with everyone there, the eladrin, Naiverra, told me that the group was looking to set out to deal with another threat in the Castle Velinheim. I remembered from my education there used to be an empire of Velinheim, but not much beyond. Before the conversation could continue, though, Naiverra and the dragonborn, Errol, made their introductions and began to bicker of the practices of arcane magic. I sipped at a tankard myself, somewhat amused at the back and forth. However, it resolved itself soon enough and I spoke with the dwarf and the human. The dwarf, Travek Whurkrak, is a cleric of Moradin. I felt more comfortable with another who follows the will of his deity in company. The human introduced himself as Limerick, a ranger with a large bow and a dour face. The three regaled myself and Errol with the necessity of dealing with a lich in Castle Velinheim’s counterpart in the Shadowfell. When I asked what exactly a lich was, the gladly told me: a being that had undergone a ritual unholy to transform himself into a walking undead, with his soul caught in a bauble so that he would not pass on. I felt my blood rise and told them I would be more than happy to aid them. Errol took a different tact, and said he believed it sounded like an excellent opportunity to hone his craft.

That night, I slept in a bed for the first time in quite a while. I knew it would be the last time for a while as well. I slept well, and the talk of Stormhold, where the group was from, gave me dreams of my family and the temple of Pelor there, where I had learned my own trade. I slept peacefully, and I awoke when the first light of morning fell on my eyes. I rose and began my morning prayers. My morning tasks completed, I dressed and donned my armor and headed downstairs. There, I met the other dwarf, Dalrak, brother to the cleric and a fellow hammer wielder. We exchanged pleasantries before I met Eorik, the other half-elf. Others soon joined, and not long after, a gnome descended the stairs with what must have been all his belongings strapped to his back. He remarked about heading to the Mage Guild in Stormhold, and the group around me began to snicker and offered to speed his way so he could greet Rahvin, the man that had left the day before, when he arrived. I suspect this is a great joke on their part, and no doubt would enjoy it myself, if I knew it.

Our trip over the mountains was uneventful. We had been directed to a mountain pass, making the journey considerably easier, and emerged on the other side to an open plain. In the distance was a crumbling castle and as we drew nearer, the remains of apparent undead that the group had faced before littered our path. Here was where we made our crossover into the Domain of Dread, the home of this lich, Harivec the Cruel.

As soon as we crossed into the new plane, I felt entirely out of place. Everything seemed muted and suppressed. The white of my robes and gold of insignias were dulled. Dark clouds raced overhead, and I uttered a prayer to Pelor for protection and strength in our coming trials. Limerick lead us to the gates, where mist swirled about the walls, and closed behind us along with the gates after we had passed through. The people… they looked upon us with sunken eyes, made signs towards us before hurrying away. The lines of their faces told of crushing despair that they bore without thought now. Of all the things to get used to… I made a vow to myself that I would bring Pelor’s light to this abominable creature that held these people in such conditions.

Limerick found a man he seemed to know, and spoke with him in hushed terms. As he did, children with empty eyes came towards us, looking at the coloration in our clothing. Naiverra attempted to please them with a show of colorful lights, but instead, I fear she scared them half out of their wits. But people made their gestures and the children watched on. I kept my eyes casting about, looking for sudden groups of people or perhaps something else come to confront us when Limerick motioned us to follow. We walked through winding streets of dark, chipped stone and over canals of murky, viscous water. Finally, we stepped into a building and met a woman Limerick named as Esmeralda.

She was apparently an oracle, and quite blind, though I have heard of similar things before.
I suspect that the gods must find a balance to such great sight. She greeted Limerick by name, and he asked about approaching the castle. It seemed that Harivec was attempting to marshall more strength from other planes, but he did not leave his castle unguarded. There were four lieutenants that we face. The first was the Reaper, the being that swept the streets and took people to the lich for cruel experiments. Another was the Vile Warlord, who had sought Harivec to avoid death, and now guarded the lower levels of the castle and lead the undead legions. Dragolan the Fierce, a lich dragon of all things, guarded Harivec’s phylactery and was bound to due to Harivec’s possession of his own.

What chilled me, as I stood there next to the door, was the story of the Old Knight who manifested as a headless ghost. As Esmeralda told us his story, she pointed straight at me, and said ‘one like him, a paladin that came to destroy Harivec.’ I closed my eyes and suppressed a shudder as she told us of the being now bound to the lich’s will after decades of torture. Pelor, give me strength so that I may release this poor man and not suffer the same fate.

More time passed, and there was more discussion about gaining entry to the castle, when Limerick’s acquaintance, Grigori I believe, burst in and told us they were coming. I hefted my shield and drew my craghammer, which already glowed with divine radiance. Travek summed up my feelings perfectly:

After everything else today, I can only hope that drinking would be my one solace. I can’t though… I can’t let my guard down to much. Harivecs agents could be around any corner… and now we have these damn devils to worry about.

We cut down that Succubus, and true to her word… a host of devils and fiendish creatures attacked the town not a minute later. As usual to our routine, despite exhaustion and battle weariness; we all rushed to the rescue of the town. The hosts of evil that met us, well… if my emotions hadn’t been dulled for all my years in the Shadowfell, I might say I have never been so panicked. Instead… I’ve never been so angry.

Why is everything getting in my way? Every time I get a step closer to getting these people to Harivecs doorstep, something else jumps up and down infront of us and forces us to stop and kill it. Every time a single tidbit of information is thrown infront of Rahvin or Naivera, they throw caution to the wind and chase after it, like some young fool listening to a cloaked man in a bar. I’m tired of these holdups… I’m sick of the setbacks… I am infuriated by everything contesting the liberation of my people!

There were a handful of bearded devils, a ferocious bone devil, a pair of Tiefling mages, and a couple scorpions the size of a house. They rushed us rather quickly, and the fact we were spread out among the streets and alleys of the the town, all the houses forcing us down different avenues. I saw Dalrak rush down a street to meet the Bone Devil headon, and coming up on our flank one of the scorpions jumped me before I could even get an arrow up. I felt so sluggish… everything had dulled. The Feywild had intoxicated me… I want to go back, I want to feel it again… I need it. Need to feel the beauty of the world, the hum of colors.

Naivera was attempted to help me, but that damned scorpion just kept slamming me up against a house, with little to no room to move away. I managed to break free of those claws, despite that stinger continually hitting me, but still… it felt for a moment like I would die under that barrage of poison and pain. I felt the dullness come back… felt the world go dark again. For a moment, the shadows bloomed around me… and I knew this is what Harivec wanted. Somewhere he was watching and laughing at me, hoping that the world would do the work he never could; and finish me off.

I need to get to him, before all of these stupid adventures kill me. Damn the Prophecy. I can’t fullfill it I get myself killed, and I can’t expect it to protect me from all of this.

Eventually we managed to push through the devil tide, finding eachother in the urban jungle, and combining our powers to return them all back to the fiery pits they came out of. Some of the townfolk died in the initial attack, but Nivera and Travek performed some rituals to get them back up.

16 hours. 16 damn hours. More time that is flying back… time that Harivec can consolidate his near infinite strength in the Domain of Dread, where he rules as God. Where he has time to hide his phylactery and protect it. I eventually got some sleep, but I can dream of nothing but my last battle with Harivec. Replay it over and over again, hope beyond hope we could somehow repeat the circumstances and hit that lich-bastard with as great surprise as we did before.

In the morning the councilors of Deepwood presented us with some rewards for our assistance. I don’t care about these gifts… I don’t care anymore.

I only care about one thing… and it will get done. No matter the cost.

Note: Please feel free to post IG/OOG thoughts/comments/critiques/insults to these write ups. While these are Limerick’s personal writings, he’s not exactly Mr. Sneaky with it, as you can often hear him mumbling parts of each entry to himself like some walking dialogue.

Hard to believe so much has happened in only one day. Killed Mazikar… fought an entire gaggle of cyclopian soldiers… killed a Formorian King… killed a Succubus seducer who was part of a complicated plot to cause mass despair so that the souls of all the Deep Wood citizens would be lowered enough for her and her Pit Fiend ruler to take. I even squeezed in a round with Daniel this morning!

I don’t really know where to begin, as I still don’t understand much of what’s going on. My mind is still filled to the brink with images of conquering Harivec with those devils at my back… and… the price. I can’t believe I actually considered it, even if for only a moment. I pray the others didn’t notice… they have been good to me, they have helped me, offered to continue helping me. We’ve fought together, put our lives in each others hands, and then I go and actually consider giving their souls to that succubi bitch.

We returned the Eladrin Queens body back to her husband and people, which seemed to really help in their outlook on Deepwood. Naivera and I spent a couple extra hours moving all that feywild bone over to my businesses in Stormhold, I’m sure they’ll appreciate such rare and fine things to work with. Naivera was worried that the devil had taken over someone on the Council, I’m afraid I couldn’t lend much comfort to that; other then a plan for catching them. When we returned to Deepwood, we found the place to have mobilized their defenses… towards the Fey Gate. Apparently Keira and the other Council members were tired of the Eladrin, and so were ready to cut down any that stepped out of the gate.

I took to wandering around a bit, getting drinks for the Gate Guard and loosening up with Eorik (he and that weird dagger aren’t that bad). I noticed Finnan walking about looking for a rug, and decided to twist him up a bit. Apparently Naivera was taking my plan to heart by setting up a ritual circle in the tavern, and had already called for the Councilors to come meet us. I thought that was one of my more cunning of traps.

We waited a while, most of the others on the other side of the circle near the dining hall they were going to use. I was rather content to sit at the back of the bar, watching the edge of that circle for the very moment someone was stopped by it. Eorik was sitting a bit closer, and I knew it was so Skamos could reach home from up close. We got out chance, Shava showed up, and stopped right at the circle. Eorik caught my eye, reaching up and trying to bodily throw the woman through the circle… but was unsuccessful.

I didn’t need anymore indication. In the fastest draw I think I’ve ever pulled off, my bow and an arrow was at hand in flash. The arrow already gone before you could hear the thunderclap my bow let off. The instant my arrow pounded into Shava’s chest, her form reverted instantly to that of the sinfully intoxicating succubus. Eorik moved in next, spinning Skamos in an fashion I can only barely mimic with a slender arrow, and bringing the pommel of the chatty dagger down with surprising aim to the exposed back of the devil. Unfortunately, she had turned another of the Council into a puppet, who dived in the way and took the hit before Eorik could pull back.

We had the thing surrounded in an instant, and she quickly surrendered. She was quick the point, as is most of her kind, to offer us deals for freedom, and deals for glory. Again, I can’t believe I let myself succumb to her offer. She revealed quite a bit of information about how she worked for some Pit Fiend, and there was an army of devils marching towards Deepwood at that very moment. Eorik and I were rather quick to point out that we didn’t give a damn, and we’d go right into hell itself and teach this Pit Fiend that we weren’t afraid. Apparently the Pit Fiend was working for some other devil, someone named Mentos-pilaties (or something). Again, it was Eorik and I who just countered with the fact we’d kick that guys ass also. Travik and Naivera said that wouldn’t be immediately possible… but I think they were just scared of going to hell.

After the Shadowfell… I just can’t imagine any other place, being as bad.

Eventually the Succubus just kept babbling about the same things, over and over again. I was tired of hearing it… tired of hearing the same tempting offer thrown to me. Giving the signal, Dalrak finished the bitch off. As the others moved to leave the tavern, I decided to get a drink. Dalrak and Eorik weren’t about to pass up a free drink either, as Quinn had ran off.

I didn’t even get the flagon to my lips before Travik opened the door to the tavern… and we heard the death screams and striking of steel on steel.

How much longer is this damn day going to be?

Note: Please feel free to post IG/OOG thoughts/comments/critiques/insults to these write ups. While these are Limerick’s personal writings, he’s not exactly Mr. Sneaky with it, as you can often hear him mumbling parts of each entry to himself like some walking dialogue.

I think I might have died, if for just a moment, and gone to that place my mother told me I was destined to go. I have never felt so… much. Everything… was right. I feel colors, hear the clouds… my heart hasn’t stopped pumping yet, even as my body and mind have grown accustomed to this new world. I had thought the Prime was the most beautiful place in existence, and yet I have been proven a fool.

I think that maybe this is the first time I have ever cried willingly since my father was killed some eight years ago. Each tear is worth it… I can fee them, see them… as if they were alive themselves.

The Feywild is wonderful… and I find myself aching already in the knowledge that I have to leave. Leave not only for the duller Prime… but step a single inch into the desolation and void known as the Shadowfell.

I’m rather glad now I didn’t fight to much against the others when they wanted to once again put our journey to Harivec on hold, so that we could check on the Eladrin peoples that had spirited themselves away into this glorious domain. Speaking of which… this entire split seems far to, wrong. Something is just wrong in all of this. The Eladrin leader claims that the humans and elfs on the Prime are holding the body of his wife, yet of course the humans have denied this. It just seems like such a strange thing to fight over… let alone how it came to be fought on.

It all made sense eventually, especially after we agreed to assist the Eladrins in their struggles against the local cyclopian population. Who seemed to decide it was an appropriate time to begin harassing them. After taking care of a strike team, I managed to lead the group back to the base camp, or should I say cave, that the cyclops were working out of. The initial couple of waves were rather intermediate, the only true fight being that of plunging through the incredible vitality each single giant held.

Our true test was that of the Fomorian who had made this territory his. We later came to know his name as Gremlik, and it seemed that he was in consort with devils; for we had killed one near the back of his lair. He was tall enough to be slump just a tad in the cathedral ceiling tunnels, his bulk blocking the whole of the hallway: which could of fit three or four wagons across it. Somehow this collosus could still rear back enough to bring his tools of death to our bodies. Each time he slammed into Dalrak, I think I went deaf from the sheer cacophony of noise from mace meeting shield.

This eventually worked to our advantage, by forcing the large beast into the hallway, we blocked all of his rear support from getting up close to us as he we hacked away through him. Honestly, I’m surprised we didn’t tunnel right through him before we forced him onto his back. After clearing out the rest of the tunnels, we found a rather nice big pile of gold… and this huge throne made entirely of feywild bone. Oh, and we also happened to find the the Eladrin Leaders wife’s body, which I suppose is a good thing.

Naivera mentioned something about a powerful demon having passed through the portal recently… and with the devil we found in the cave, it only links several things together. Damn, I really hope Rahvin doesn’t tell that fucking halfling about this also… that’s all we need. That little big-mouth running around saying that devils are impersonating the populace and going to eat everyone’s souls.

I wish I had a god to pray to like Travek, maybe that would make my headache go away when thinking about all the bad stuff that’s happening.

Note: Please feel free to post IG/OOG thoughts/comments/critiques/insults to these write ups. While these are Limerick’s personal writings, he’s not exactly Mr. Sneaky with it, as you can often hear him mumbling parts of each entry to himself like some walking dialogue.

Starting from the Formorian Cave, we then took the body back to the Eladrin leader. The body of the Eladrin Queen was returned, and we returned her holy symbol, met with deep appreciation. I had him write a letter of intent to re-open lines of communication, but gave it to Travek to carry. Meanwhile, Limerick and Eorick just vanished for a while. Naiverra, Limerick and Eorick went to the cave, the rest of us went back to Deepwood.

We came back to discover that now the whole Council seemed to be against reconciliation with the Eladrin and Keira was rabble-rousing. We had a nice fight with Keira about the existence of a devil, her behavior, etc. So, a council meeting was to be held that night. Travek made use of his Goggles of Aura Sight to examine council members and determine if they were suspicious.

Stephanie made the decision to get Finnen involved in setting up a magical circle to block the devil. Yup, the exemplar of discretion. So there was a nice, subtle rug over the magic circle. Turns out, it outed Shava as the Succubus, and Theren took an attack for her. She claims a pit lord named Astronel has an interest in Deepwood. Turns out he’s a lieutenant of Mephistopholes, which sounds rather EPIC than Paragon. So, we gacked her and headed out to fight the group of devils encroaching on the town.

So, after mic problems, we finally got going. I looked at the pictures that Ken took at the one-day and hunted pictures of me kicking ass. I found a couple, but there were an awful lot of me just standing around.

We came back and I dissuaded Finnen from talking about mind controlled council members, by the grace of my Beguiling Tongue. We had a great time listening to songs, drinking and eating into the night and got a restful sleep. The next morning we had some discussion about what to do next when we caught Finnen the Bard eavesdropping, so we decided to have a little chat. In the end, Travek sent him to the bar to drink.

We went and examined the portal (Steph with a natural 20), and found that a devil had used the portal eight hours ago. So, Eorick and Rahvin went to Streetwise a bit while Travek talked to Finnen. Then we went to the Feywild, talked to the leader, who said that he had received a missive from Finnen (how suspicious) that they held the body ransom for 1,000 gold. The Eladrin were being threatened by ugly arsed giants. As we had this discussion, what I assume were the ugly arsed giants were making their entrance… and that’s where we stopped.

I’m not saying I’m the best… I’m just saying, I know what I know. I know how to get something… to track it down. To hunt it, to make it run, to make it go exactly where I want it.

Now… a King’s Gambit is a nice offhanded opening… or even the flush with a Knight sweep. Still, my favorite opening is probably the one that still defines me as a simpleton when it comes to chess. I like the classic kings pawn opening. It lets me take control of my center, launch a variety of different assaults, and keep up defense of my queen.

David was rather happy to see me use such a beginners move when I started playing the Immortal Game. David being that weird undead skeletal apparition, that’s not his real name… but it seems appropriate. He went with with classic moves just to mess with me, and for a while it really did… but not for long. Luckily this ghastly visage is susceptible to some of the regular forms of board shuffling.

Tapping the rim, exhaustive sighs, snarky off-to-the-side comments.

I played with that sack of bones the entire bone trip, just lounging out on deck drooling over that stark contrasting board. The pieces gleamed in the sunlight, and I could see my reflection in the king’s piece. We eventually got into Stormhold, but not before I put a real stab in David’s ass by adding a penguin variation on Reti combination. That stuckup ne’er’do’wrong will be going crazy over that all of next week!

Met up with the King of Stormhold, apparently I’m signed up to be a champion or something because I helped with getting the Orb back to them. Hmm… King… maybe I’ll start forming up a castling. That would really make David pissed off, especially if I never even did it!

Travek took me out drinking, though I wasn’t one to get washed away. I decided to do something with my money, pushed it into a few places around town. Maybe I’ll get something from it, I don’t know. Ended up doing the same thing over in Ironhelm after Naivera opened us up a portal over to there. I don’t know why Travek wanted us to come all the way here for him and Naivera to learn their rituals, there was absolutely nothing else for any of us to do. Well, that’s not true. I got continue showing David how to lick the floor with his pathetic moves.

After about another week of loafing around, we made our way to Deepwood. Pretty nice place, sorry to hear that Harivec and Mazikar pummeled them down so hard. They are pulling through, barely. Seems that their Eladrin population turned tail and ran when Harivec’s army first showed up, and went into the Feywild following some dead Queen or something. Speaking of Queens, I almost had David’s last night… it was so close. He tried hooking his rook around, but that turned up daisy’s for him almost.

Also seems that Mazikar is in the area leading nightly attacks against these people. After I gave out some lessons to the locals, we headed up to the Monastery to put a final ending to that bleach-skinned fang-faced Mazikar.

When we arrived, Mazikar gave us a little spill about how his benefactor had warned him we were coming. I wonder if he means Harivec… they had been working together before. Either way, Mazikar called out his undead forces and we went into a rather deep battle. Dalrak took the battle right to Mazikar, and this time was prepared to push off the vampire’s dominating gaze. Naivera had held back a little, and was rather surprised when a horde of undead came swarming up out of the ground at her. I managed to hook around to the far side of the field and lay down support for everyone, but it was really Travek who pulled the win for this battle. With his explosive holy powers, it might of been a much longer and bloodier battle.

Now that I think about it… we kept a rather solid King’s Pawn Opening, though I did shuffle off to the side like the wily rook.